I thought you were on vacation?
by AspiringNovelist14
Summary: Nick, Warrick, and Greg are all in big trouble. Can the team find it's missing members? undecided pairings, if any. mild language. mild POTC references.
1. Chapter 1

Summer of 1987

"Welcome to _Fabulous_ Las Vegas Nevada"

The words seemed to smile at the boys. The growing desire in their hearts, to escape their old lives and start over, was becoming fulfilled. They felt empowered.

A boy with dark brown hair, and coke-bottle glasses turned to his two companions and smiled brightly.

"The last 15 years haven't mattered at all guys." He spoke, as a genuine leader of the trio.

Whoops and cheers flooded the small seat that the 3 boys shared on the crowded bus.

"We start living now!" the self-proclaimed leader began again.

The red-head of the group cheered to the other boys' words but quickly butt in when the cheering had ceased.

"This is a tough city, that's what I was always told. Were gonna hafta stick together. We won't be able to do this alone, were gonna hafta promise er' somthin'"

"We'll make it, together, or shall our souls rest in hell if we abandon each other" The third boy finally spoke up.

"I think were gonna need a little more than words here guys" the leader spoke again, the boy then reached into his pocket and retrieved a knife "We're gonna need some substance to them words."

"A blood promise." The other two agreed simultaneously, nodding their heads in approval at the leaders' quick thinking.

The red-head pricked his pinky finger quickly, and winced at the sudden sensation that filled the limb.

The leader then drove a steady gash across his pinky finger, intently staring as the blood pooled onto his finger tip, as he passed the knife to the third boy.

The third boy quickly gashed his finger, as their leader had done, and all three wrapped their fingers tightly together, blood dripping from their suspended state.

"Together." The leader began

"Together." The other two repeated.

"Or shall we suffer in Hell for eternity."

"Eternity." The other two repeated.

"_Alright folks, welcome to beautiful Sin City, Nevada, if you'd please exit to your right, and steer clear of the traffic to your left, I hope you enjoyed your trip and we look forward to taking you home on a Sunset Arms travel tour, 'with us, your free to ride into the sunset…'"_

20 years later.

"Alright Catherine, you and Sara have a 419 down at Circus-Circus, suspicious circs, so be thorough. Vega will meet you there, and David is on route, so get there quick." Grissom explained as he dangled an assignment slip in front of Catherine's face.

Catherine ripped the paper harshly from Grissom's grasp and proceeded out the door.

"I'm drivin' Sar; meet me out front in 5." She called back into Sara who was now proceeding out the door and to the locker room behind her.

Once the women were clear out of ear-shot Grissom addressed the remainder of the team.

"Nick picked a good week to be out, we haven't been overly busy. You guys have been keeping up with his mail, and newspapers right?"

"Yeah Gris, everybody knows that's like a red bulls-eye on a house for thieves, especially in this city." Greg answered as he got up to pour himself some more coffee.

"Well I don't have anything for you guy's right now, but stick around on stand-by for at least an hour, before you go cracking open some cold cases and getting too involved with them, okay?"

"Sure thing Gris." Warrick responded as he watched a grimacing Greg, and laughed, as he realized that somebody had brewed the generic brand coffee in the machine.

Grissom then made a quiet exit to his office, as Greg and Warrick were left sitting in the break room.

"So tomorrow's my go, for grabbing Nick's mail and paper's right?" Warrick asked, more in an attempt to start conversation than anything else.

"Yeah, I still can't believe he locked us out, told us to put his mail in his work locker, I mean come on, it's like an unwritten law to throw parties a guys' house when he's away." Greg whined.

"You know how he is about his place, as messy as it is; he knows where everything is… still got them bad after affects ever since….you know." Warrick trailed off, it always felt wrong to talk about what had happened to Nick, but it felt even more wrong that Nick wasn't there while they were examining his actions.

"I know, it's been awhile, but going to Texas always does him some good. He always comes back happier, not to mention with a huge accent to rip on for the first few days." Greg laughed as he fondly remembered Nick telling Greg to hand him an evidence sack, rather than bag. Classic Texan slang.

"Well, I'm gonna head over, see if any of the techs could use a hand, you should help Mia out in DNA, at least until we can start working on a cold case." Warrick announced, as he headed to Archies' A/V lab.

"You think she'll let me turn on my old music? I think I still have a few CD's in my locker." Greg called to Warrick who was halfway down the hall.

"You wish Greggo, you'll be lucky if she let's you touch a thing." Warrick laughed as he rounded a corner, and Greg proceeded in the opposite direction.

Greg had been absent-mindedly swiveling in his hijacked computer chair in the break room for the past fifteen minutes. After Mia had kicked his…. _What did she say? "Egocentric-childish ass" Yeah that was it. _ Out of her lab, he had decided that as much as it pained him, he would go see if Hodges needed a hand with anything.

Hodges had been his usual ass-like self. Just as Greg suspected, and noticing that between Mia and Hodges, he had only been on call for a half hour, he became increasingly bored. It was right after Hodges had begun ragging on him about his irresponsibility as a CSI, when Hodges had left for a break. Greg knew that that was his perfect chance.

Greg laughed quietly to himself as he remembered just 15 minutes before he had been humming the tune to 'Pirates of the Caribbean' while 'commandeering' Hodges computer chair.

Greg began to hum the tune again as he sat bored, waiting for Hodges to return from break and notice his missing chair.

"Hey pirate boy, Gris has a trash run for us, doesn't usually take two, but after hearing you humming down the hallways, he told me to get you outta here. Brass is gonna meet us there." Warrick announced as he stifled his laughter at Greg, as he instantly stopped his humming and nearly fell out of the chair.

"Sounds good, where's it at?"

"Way out in the sticks man, some cheesy little desert town, there's directions on the slip… but it's gonna be a long drive, I'm driving, meet me out front in 5." Warrick announced as he went to grab his vest from his locker and head to the parking lot.

"SANDERS!"

Greg heard Hodges screams all the way in the break room, and was quick to dash off to the trace lab to have a last little bit of fun before leaving with Warrick, with Hodges' chair in tow.

"You can remember this as the day…" Greg started to announce as he poked his head into the trace lab "that you almost caught…" he continued as he pulled the chair into view "Captain…"

Hodges' enraged face turned up into a smirk as he looked directly behind Greg.

Greg turned around to see Grissom standing there, eyebrow raised in a combined confusion and amusement.

"Headin' right for that trash run boss" Greg said to Grissom as he turned back to Hodges, while Grissom walked away shaking his head.

"Greg Sanders!" Greg yelled quickly as he rolled the chair into the lab, being sure to hit Hodges with it, and dashed to the locker room before making it out into the parking lot and into Warrick's Denali in record time.

Nick was close to smiling as he found a sliver of hope in the form of a broken brick. He had just come back to consciousness minutes before. If he could just maneuver his bindings against the protruding rock, he might be able to snap them. Nick inched over, helplessly flailing his tied arms and legs to move closer to his destination. Nicks feet made it to the rock first, and Nick rationalized that if he could stand up he would be a lot less vulnerable than he was now.

Nick looked around his tiny prison as he rubbed his tied ankles against the semi-sharp rock. His best guess would place him in a basement of sorts, due to the lack of light, and the musty aroma that seemed to emanate from the walls.

The grey-brick walls seemed stained black, as if a fire had ravaged the house above at some earlier point in time. Nick had to contain his laughter of relief as he felt the bindings on his ankle loosen, and his legs separate abruptly.

Nick rolled himself over to the wall that he had used to cut his ropes and managed to stand up. He examined his confined space closer to reveal the darkness of it all. Nick had yet to figure out why he was here; he had spent his time here rolling around on the dirt floor. Nick knew that he had been clocked on the head with great force when he was first taken, and the sticky reminder of blood on his left cheek was becoming more apparent.

What scared him most was that he did not have any sense of the amount of time he had spent here. He had never been good with measuring time, and his watch was now missing, whoever had taken him had probably taken it as well, he rationalized. Nick relished in the relief that he was standing, and conscious, so the next time someone entered his room he would have a better shot at figuring out what the hell was going on.

His happiness was cut short as a prominent sound of footsteps could be heard descending what sounded like stairs outside of the door, which he had just now noticed; _how dumb could he be to not notice the door?_

A man with, what Nick couldn't help but thinking of as 'the classic ski mask' on opened the door and even through the fabric Nick could see his smirk. _Or was it her? _Sara's indiscriminate gender beliefs flashed through Nick's mind.

_No, it was a guy. No chick could do all this to him. _

"I see you're up" a male voice taunted.

Nick couldn't help but smile, partially in relief at the man-like pitch, partially to try and show the man he was not scared of him.

"Who are you? Why am I here?" Nick demanded.

"You, my friend, are in no position to be asking questions… I see the leg bindings didn't tickle your fancy, nevertheless, I think you'll find it quite beneficial to your health if you just roll with the punches, and deal with your petty inconveniences." The man explained solemnly.

Nick glared in response.

The man then decided to pull a police night-stick out of his belt loop, and swung it forcefully into his opposite hand. The man in the mask took one step toward Nick, before Nick's instinctual response was to tackle the man to the ground.

Unfortunately for Nick, the man was quick on his feet, and managed only to fall onto his knees, while Nick landed face first in the dirt, hands still securely fastened behind his back.

The man was almost too precise with his attack, and Nicks eyes flashed terror as the man rose the night-stick high above his head.

The man then left the room and returned quickly to Nick's muffled cries of agony. He proceeded to re-tie Nick's legs, this time with 3 different pieces of rope. Nick groaned louder as the guy wrapped the rope tightly around his newly-broken leg. Once done he whispered in Nick's ear:

"You'll find it worthwhile to do as I say… I suggest you leave these ropes in place before I break every bone in your body."

The man then slammed the broken brick, Nick's sliver of hope, with the night-stick and took the sharp pieces out with him; leaving Nick to wallow in his own agony, waiting for the second phase of his plan to unfold.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thank you guys so much for reviewing my first chap, i feel so awful for not getting this out sooner, I'm not one that believes in excuses, so i will admit that i should have spent more of my time working on this. but i hope you all stuck with me, your reviews fueled this story.

No spoilers as of yet.

I don't own them, i just like to have some 'fun' with them.

I won't beg fro reviews, but feedback is nice. I hope you all enjoy, if not constructive critiscism is welcome.

Chapter 2

In the car with Warrick and Greg, hours later.

"Things are starting to unravel quickly"

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Watching the flat desert roll by the car window was about as exciting as watching the grass grow. The tannish-red swirl whirred by leaving Greg in a sleepy haze.

"C'mon G, I need you to read off the directions, we don't wanna miss it." Warrick ordered, as he nudged Greg on the shoulder, throwing the list of directions in his face.

"Alright, alright I'm up." Greg announced, a bit irritated from being woken up so abruptly.

After about 15 more minutes of monotonous scenery, a self-storage complex came into view.

"That's gotta be it, according to these directions, its right here, you see Brass' car?" Greg asked, a bit relieved that they would finally be able to get out of the car.

"Yeah, it's parked behind the building; I swear he's getting lazy as he gets older." Warrick stated, and they both shared a laugh at the thought of 'old man Brass'.

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"So, uh, boss can you believe Sanders, how immature, I mean pirates, how old is he?" Hodges greeted as he walked into the bug-filled wonder that was Gil Grissoms' office.

"What do you need Hodges?" Grissom asked, less than amused as he barely glanced up at the man from his mound of paperwork

"Well, as you know tonight's been a rather slow night, and Trace is looking pretty scarce. Just came to see if you need me to do anything else around here." Hodges recited, as he played with a paperweight which held a butterfly inside the glass, which had been sitting on Grissoms' desk.

Hodges had practiced this conversation many times in the preceding months, and so far, it seemed to be going swell.

"Just do the job we pay you to do. If you're bored, go… clean something." Grissom replied curtly, not the least amused at Hodges intrusion.

Hodges would not be deterred by Grissoms' shortness.

"Well, I came to talk to you about just that boss."

"About your job? Are you looking to transfer out of here already Hodges?" _Now _that _would make my night. _Grissom thought to himself as he finally pulled his head out of the manila folder he had been _so_ interested in during Hodges' visit.

"Not exactly, see boss, Ecklie has brought to my attention that the crime rate has been climbing-" Hodges began his well prepared, statistical speech.

"What are you getting at Hodges?" Grissom asked, now quite annoyed that this visit had been prolonged as long as it had already.

"Ecklie was talking about bringing in some extra help… So I figured that if your guys were willing to train the infamously immature _Greg Sanders…_ I might try my luck as CSI David Hodges."

An awkward silence filled the room as the pen fell from Grissoms' fingertips, and Hodges placed the butterfly paperweight back on the mans desk. Hodges felt the need to further his argument.

"I already have eliminated many off of an extensive list of possible candidates to fill my current position…" Hodges trailed off.

"Hodges, I think you're going to have to look to day shift, because we don't need anymore personnel on my shift." Grissom knew this was untrue, a qualified CSI that fit in with his team could certainly be utilized, but that CSI would _never_ be Hodges. The thought made him smile _CSI….Hodges…HAH!_

"Ecklie said that you guys-" Hodges started.

"Well, I run this shift, not Ecklie… now if you'll excuse me…."

"Alright boss, but think about it, if you guys like _Sanders_ I mean, think about it if you could receive the complete _David Hodges Experience." _

_Hah, Sounds like a bad 80's rock band. _Grissom thought to himself, and couldn't help but smile wider at the thought; _now opening up for Kiss, The David Hodges Experience._

Hodges noticed Grissoms' eerie smile, and slowly began moving for the exit.

_"_Oh, and Hodges?" Grissom added, as Hodges was halfway out of his office.

"Badelts' musical skill is certainly emphasized in that movie... 'Pirates of the Caribbean' is very well choreographed, and the music is quite fitting. Not to mention Johnny Depps' stunning acting abilities. Just thought you should know you were talking to a fan." Grissom would admit that Pirates of the Caribbean was not his favorite movie, but to see the look Hodges was giving him right now, he'd say he loved _Rocky Horror Picture Show_, of all movies.

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The large, bold lettered sign no longer displayed its message as 'U-Store-it' was now just 'U- r –it'. Greg couldn't help but laugh at the sign.

"Why would people drive all the way out here just to store there junk?" Greg voiced his confusion, as Warrick parked in the front parking lot, unlike Brass, and they both moved to grab their kits.

"You know how hard it is, not to mention expensive, to dig a basement in Clark County?" Warrick answered, as he slammed the hatch of his Denali and both guys proceeded towards Brass' car.

"Yo Brass!" Warrick yelled, as they rounded the corner to the back of the storage unit. "Where you at man?"

Warrick and Greg walked straight to Brass' car, and glanced around, before Warrick noticed that the nearest storage container was open. A discoloration on Brass' trunk caught Gregs' attention and the guys nodded before moving to their separate areas of interest.

"Brass!" Warrick called into the container, now unclipping the holster to his gun.

Greg, who still didn't carry a gun, due to only being a CSI Level 1, was too absorbed in the substance on Brass' trunk. _It looked a lot like blood._ He thought, and quickly reached into his vest pocket for a swab.

Warrick continued into the pitch black container, and reached for his flashlight, just before he could turn it on he heard rapid footsteps coming from directly above him. He bolted outside only to be met with a flying black figure jumping on top of him, effectively knocking him unconscious.

Greg whirled around quickly to see Warrick taken out by the dark figure.

"Rick!" Greg yelled as he moved to try and get the man off of him.

Another dark figure emerged from the dark storage container, almost unnoticeably as he was dressed in dark clothing too. He came up behind Greg and pressed a Taser to the left side of his neck.

As 600,000 volts of electricity coursed through Gregs' body, he fell limply to the ground, and managed a hazy look at Warrick, who seemed to be shaking with the same fate.

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Brass yelled once more into the offensive gag, and once he tried to catch his breath, a bit of hopelessness set in. Not even two minutes earlier he had heard Warrick calling for him at a distance.

Brass' hearing was not what it used to be, but he was almost certain he heard the distinctive sounds of a struggle outside. It made him sick that he became part of this attack against his friends.

He glanced to his side where the rookie cop who had been the responding officer, was still drugged, and out like a light.

Brass sat quietly, his bound hands and legs aching, he couldn't help but think that Nick had picked an amazing week to head to Texas, and get the hell outta this mixed up town. One of his, and presumably Warricks, assailants came into the darkness, and before Brass knew it his head connected with the butt of the mans gun.

Brass silently wished that he had just been drugged like the cop beside him, as he risked one last look at the remains of his smashed cell phone on the wall beside him, before succumbing to the darkness.

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With Nick's newly broken limb proving to be as much of a hindrance that the kidnapper had hoped for, Nick could do nothing other than take in his surrounding once more. His eyes followed the burn pattern upwards until a small flashing red light crossed his hazy vision. It was to the left of the door which was across the room from him, a camera. _No wonder he smashed the brick._ Nick thought to himself as the pieces seemed to be falling together.

Nicks leg was beginning to swell, and Nick knew that the bone needed to be set. After feeling his leg, and determining which way the bone had become misaligned, Nick ripped off a sleeve of his shirt, and bit down, hard.

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He removed his ski mask, and laughed profusely as he saw Nick grasping his broken limb in pain. The camera was not so good as so see the pain etched on the mans face, but ohhh he could only imagine what painful lines adorned his Texan features now.

He watched in pure amusement as his prisoner ripped his own shirt, and bit down on it. He knew what was coming. His partner walked in as soon as Nick pushed all of his weight into setting his own bone. The screams that emanated from the screen were music to their ears. The partners had done it.

While smiles spread across their faces the one that had actually done the damage to Nick, spoke.

"Are the others still out?"

"Yeah, in the back of that rookie cops cruiser, in section E, their tied up" Was the curt reply.

"We'll manage with 3; make sure you don't hurt them unless in front of pretty boy down there, I don't care about the other two scumbags." The first man all but ordered, and received a quick nod of understanding from his partner.

"Should we put them together?" the taller man asked.

"No, I think Nick there is having a bit too much fun by himself, I wanna see how hopeless he gets without company, and then we'll throw the others into the mix." The short brown haired guy replied, as he absently twirled his mask.

"The cops shouldn't come investigate the storage bins for at least another couple hours."

"We don't need to move them yet, we wait for the call."

With a quick nod of understanding both men's attention was directed back to the screen before them, where Nick had passed out, clearly from the pain of setting his own bone.


End file.
